Lavinia: It’s not working.
Ship: Just give me a second.
Lavinia: It’s like not doing anything.
Ship: Maybe that’s because we shouldn’t even be doing this.
Lavinia: What do you mean? You’re not enjoying yourself?
Ship: No I am enjoying myself. I’m enjoying myself too much. It shouldn’t be like this. It’s totally improper.
Lavinia: Yeah.
Ship: No, I’m trying to follow etiquette, do it the polite way, but every time I try to give you a simple kiss on the hand, you push me back into bed. I don’t know. Honestly, I’m starting to feel kind of used.
Lavinia: Excuse me?
Ship: I hate it when women make me feel like this. Like they just want me for my body.
Maggie: What’s the matter dear?
Emily: I can’t write.
Maggie: Oh blimey, I never thought I’d hear you say that.
Emily: Ever since I gave him one of my poems.
Maggie: Gave you?
Emily: Mr. Bowles. Two weeks ago I submitted. Ugh, that’s an awful word. Submission, like he controls me, like he’s my master.
Maggie: Some people get a kick out that sort of thing.
